Dichotomies

Regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam is something of a dichotomy. She clearly ‘cares’ about me, in the sense that she not only visits me on a regular basis but she will also frequently enquire after my wellbeing. On the other hand, she clearly enjoys my position of helplessness and impotence at her feet, and does not hesitate to use me, humble me and humiliate me. She ‘cares’ for me in the sense of my being her ‘personal’ possession whom she must share with other members of the public, but whom she regards as her own property – subject to her personal whims and wishes.

I too am a dichotomy – for I respect and admire regular customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam and very much appreciate her regular visits. Yet I simultaneously fear her and what she might do to me, if she is in a bad mood, for example.

Tonight, she is evidently in a good mood and displaying her softer side as she enquires after my wellbeing in such inclement weather:

‘How are you coping with this awful weather, sockieboy? (‘sockieboy’ is her nickname for me, on account of my evident and pathetic fondness for my customers’ socks, including hers!). Aren’t you freezing?’

You see, this is what I mean about Ms Mukta being a dichotomy, and her attitude towards me being full of contradictions. She seemingly cares about my wellbeing and how I must be shivering in the bitter cold of a frosty night in the Gynarchy, but she does nothing to alleviate my suffering – such as bringing me a warming blanket; or a portable heater!

I, of course, must humbly thank her for her concern but seek to reassure her that I’m just a slave and therefore deserve to be suffering in the cold. It’s the Law:

‘Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam, oh bless, mistress. Thank you kindly for your kind concern, mistress, but this slave deserves to be suffering under the elements, madam, on account of his being a mere municipal footslave, madam, if you would be so kind and understanding miss? Nevertheless, this shivering slave is feeling all the better for seeing you, and your boots and socks madam, begging your female pardon and compassion miss?’

‘Haha, that’s what my hubby Simon says – you deserve to be suffering, as you’re just a slave! He’s right, of course! But I’m glad the sight of my boots and socks is cheering you up! Would you like to at least warm your tongue on them?’

Ms Mukta is callously inviting me to lickshine her boots under the guise of concern for the wellbeing of my tongue! I must play along:

‘Oh pray, Ms Mukta madam! Oh bliss, oh joy! Truly this slave would be honoured to warm his tongue on the surfaces of your boots madam, if you would indeed be so kind to an helpless and unworthy slave at your feet, madam?’

‘Haha, very well then, sockieboy. You may lick my boots. And make sure you bring them up to a nice shine. I want to look good in my boots for my husband Simon!’

‘Yes, madam. It will be my honour to lickshine your boots for the benefit of your husband – my master Simon sir – miss. Might this slave humbly enquire as to the current wellbeing of the master-sir, madam?’

It’s an audacious, not to say impertinent, question on my humble part, but I feel emboldened to ask it as Ms Mukta madam is clearly in a conciliatory mood and I do serve her husband on a regular basis also. I therefore feel a special bond with this happy couple and their footwear!

Ms Mukta chuckles at my slavish concern for her mighty husband’s wellbeing:

‘Yeah, he’s fine – all cosy and warm tucked up on the sofa at home. He sends his regards, slave, though he couldn’t be bothered to come and use you this evening!’

And that’s the difference between a customer-mistress’s natural feminine compassion and a master-sir’s manly indifference. That’s why I admire my female masters more than I do my male masters. My sweet feminine female masters still despise me as I am a slave, and yet they think about my wellbeing and my slavish needs – the need to kiss feet and lick boots, even on such an inclement evening!

‘God bless master Simon sir, madam. Please convey my respect and admiration for him, miss!’

Again, it’s an audacious request on the part of a public footservant. A mere slave should not be demanding that a customer-mistress or master pass on his meaningless regards to their partner! But I can get away with things with Ms Mukta madam that any other customer would have me severely beaten for. At least, I can get away with it most of the time!

‘Be quiet now, sockieboy, and start licking!’

She presents her booted foot to me. Even Ms Mukta’s tolerance of my slavish impudence has its natural limits, and I must know when to stop talking and to start licking!

As my tongue starts to lickshine the cold outer surface of her warming boot, Ms Mukta madam, knowing me only too well as she does, kindly invites me to study her plain, brown sock:

‘You can look at my socks while you’re lickshining my boots, sockieboy. But DON’T think of me above the socks!’

‘Yes, Ms Mukta madam. I mean, no, Ms Mukta madam!’

Can you sense my fear? The fear of doing, or saying, something wrong to upset Ms Mukta. Ms Mukta madam is NOT my friend. I am right to be fearful and cautious in my interactions with her. At the end of the day, she is my customer-master, albeit a female, compassionate one. I am as much in her power and at her mercy as I am that of any other of my esteemed customers.

I therefore focus on licking black leather boot, and studying dark brown sock, and endeavour to be pleasing to customer-mistress Ms Mukta madam, in order to avoid her righteous wrath!